During lunch we sat by the pier, overlooking the Dun Laoghaire port, pronounced as “Dun Lareee”. As the pigeons fed on the crumbs that fell off my egg mayo sandwich, I took a deep breath of the cool sea breeze whilst enjoying both the company and the view I had.
Then reality sank in.
St Micheal’s Hospital isn’t the most exciting. Heck, it’s probably the most boring hospital in the whole of Dublin. Or maybe because I was stuck in such a boring team. It could be either
The “cool” doctors
I removed the tape from both my arms. There was no more blood flowing. The bin in the ward was full of sharps, blood stained 'toppers' and used gloves. I wasn't the only one stained with blood.
Dr James and Dr I-can’t-complete-a-sentence-without-saying-f*** allowed us to stick needles in each other in order to perfect our cannulation technique.
I got it in on my third try. Pretty decent, huh.
I couldn’t think of any other word except for ‘cool’ that would describe the demeanour of both the SHOs (senior house officer) that were with us in the empty ward.
I googled 'cool doctor' and this was what came up.
“Now don’t you be scared, it just f***ing blood. Yesterday I had to stick my hand in a f***ing artery for almost two hours while waiting for the f***ing consultant to arrive. I really thought that the patient was f***ed, but he f***ing survived,” said Dr you-know-who.
“I know you’re not supposed to do this unsupervised, but I trust you enough not to kill each other,” said Dr James
It’s too bad I’m stuck in respiratory rounds with a boring team. I would’ve loved to be under their wings even though they’re in surgical.
Cest la vie.
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